By The Time The Story's Done You'll Be Gone
by Vatala Darkmist
Summary: Daelyn gave up suicide to be with Santana, but now he's gone and her life has gained a whole new meaning of the word depression.


Appreciation: To Julie Anne Peters for all the books she writes (which are made of awesome by the way) and whoever reads this. And my AMAZING beta Liz Night.

Disclaimer: I own a copy of the book radda radda radda I do not own rights radda radda radda.

**If I smile and don't believe soon I know I'll wake from this dream. Don't try to fix me I'm not broken. Hello I'm the lie living for you so you can hide don't cry.**

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Treasure what you have... Time is too slow for those who wait; Too swift for those who fear; Too long for those who grieve; Too short for those who rejoice; But for those who love...

Time is eternity...

-Araceh

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Daelyn POV

It had finally happened. I had stopped all my plans to move into the light because of him. And now he's gone. It had been a few months since my... path changed and I had gone to Santana's house.

It had been hard for him to finally get me out on a date, but when he took (dragged) me to the movies with him I actually had fun. I guess we had been 'going out' for at least a month when he was put in the hospital.

It had been a fairly normal day, but, when I had left school, he wasn't there. Surprised a bit, I started off towards Santana's house to see if something was wrong. When I arrived something seemed... ominous. I walked slowly to the porch and swallowed painfully when I saw the door wide open. I turned around when I heard the sound of a car pullingup. I watched as my dad got out of the passenger seat and came jogging toward me and seconds later my mom followed. Suddenly I was wrapped in a breath taking hug as my dad whispered quiet nothings into my hair.

I can't recall much of what happened afterwards the doctor says I'm 'blocking out the painful memories', but I do remember rushing to the hospital and sobbing because Santana just looked so weak. Every day after that I would visit him and it was pure torture. I watched as it took all of his energy just to give me a small smile. I watched as we put his ashes in a jar.

It had been a month since the cremation and I have sunk deeper into the black cloud known as depression, deeper than I ever thought possible. That's not the worst part, though. I've started to see him again. It will always be after school and he'll just be sitting there on the edge of that wretched stone bench, like we can just talk. And we willand, for a little while, I'll forgot that he's really gone. That is I'll forget until mom comes. The first time she caught me talking to what seemed like the bench, she thought it was therapeutic that I be reminded of him. I remembered where Santana really was (in a box you cruel world) and I stared in horror at the figment hoping it would disappear in a puff of smoke, but he just sat there at the end of the bench both legs stretched out waving good-bye. Before I could get out of hearing range I heard him say, "Come with me."

I startled and turned quickly trying to see the figment, but he was gone.

That was not the first time. Every day after that he would be on the bench and I would forget until I was picked up. Then he would say those three little words that kept me up at night. What did they mean? Every day I would dwell on it. It had gotten so bad my grades were slipping.

One day when I was washing my hands after lunch it came to me. He wanted me to pass over to wherever he was without me. Deciding quickly I stepped out of the bathroom determinedly and began the short walk towards the bell tower. People passed by me and gave me strange looks. I suppose at the time I looked braver then I ever had before. As I was walking, the bell tower it seemed to almost fly to me. I believe this was Santana's way of saying he approves. I finally stepped through the doors and walked up the beautifully carved stairs. When I reached the top of the bell tower, I didn't hesitate. I just jumped and the last thing I heard was a high shriek.

**Later**

When I woke up the first thing that told me I was truly gone was that there was no pain. The second was that I was Right next to my old, crumpled sack of a body. Third was that I knew I was in the exact same courtyard except it was dull, like all the bright colors had been washed out of a horrible painting. The fourth, and most important, was Santana was right there.

Extremely happy, I rushed to my feet and ran to him, wrapping my translucent arms around him. He pulled me close by the waist and buried his nose in my hair muttering incoherent things.

"What?" I asked into his shirt.

He separated from me and looked deep into my eyes.

"D, you were depressed. You could never see me. I would never want what you did. I LOVE you."

**E N D**

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Author's note: I like killing characters in painful ways.

Pwease review *puppy dog eyes*.


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